Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Of course, Ma.” He pulls her in for a bear hug, wrapping one arm around her waist and lifting her off the floor effortlessly. He kisses her on the cheek. “Missed you.”
She pulls back, pinching his cheeks. “You’re doing just fine, boy. Taking good care of your sister I see.” She looks back to me.
“Speaking of,” I say to Dad. “Can we talk?”
“What have you done?” he asks Nate, and I quickly interfere. “No, it’s nothing like that. Just… something. Can we talk?”
He nods, placing his suitcase down just as Sammy comes through the front door dressed in casual jeans and a knitted sweater.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you home until tomorrow.” She picks up the bag and winks at me. Huh, Sammy is ultra-happy today, but those questions will have to wait.
Dad gestures toward the hallway. “My office.”
Following him down, I step into his space, suddenly engulfed with rich pine, red leather, and ancient books.
He takes a seat on his chair, unbuttoning his suit and removing his tie. It’s the first time I’ve really gotten to look at Dad in a long time. The skin around his eyes sags more than ever, his stubble is a couple days old, and his eyelids look heavy and tired. Just when I’m about to tell him to forget it, not wanting to add to his obviously already stressful life, he opens his mouth.“I realize you have a lot to ask after what happened at Hector’s house.”
I swallow. “Well, actually, yes and no.”
“How much do you know already, Madison?” he whispers hoarsely.
My anger picks up a little. “Why the hell do people keep asking me that? Like they’re trying to find a barrier to which they won’t cross. Fearing they might say too much, but it’s okay for them to say too little. It’s deceiving and dishonest.”
“Madison,” he exhales. “No one is honest in this world. I’m sorry that you’re a part of it. I never… we—your mother and I—never wanted you to be a part of this world. It’s why we were on the run for so long.” He leans back in his chair.
“So why bring me back here then, Dad, if you knew I was in trouble?”
He pauses, running his index finger over his upper lip while he watches me. Probably thinking about whether or not he should be honest with me. Fucking people and their honesty.
“Because….” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “God, Madison. There is a natural order to how things operate in the Kings. A way that no one has tampered with for generations and generations. Roles that each of us have that we always have had.” He pauses, looking up at me from beneath his lids. He exhales again, but I think I’ve already worked it out.
“You’re wanting to change the order.”
He looks at me and narrows his eyes. “Yes. But Hector can’t know.”
I look at him, taking a seat on the chair in front of me. “What do you mean? So why does he think you brought me back?”
He pauses, leans back, and rests his elbow on the armrest. Realization comes in. “Wait. Does he think you brought me back to… kill me?”
“What?” my dad exasperates. “Of course fucking not.”
Information is swimming around in my head. Information that may as well be in Japanese, because I have no idea what all this means. “Well, can you enlighten me? Because I can’t see why else Hector would let me walk free, considering the Kings hid me away to try to make sure he didn’t find out I was back here.”
Dad’s eyes turn to stone, along with his jaw. “That wasn’t the whole reason why those boys took you away, Madison. You must never forget who they are, who their loyalty belongs to, because it’s not you. It never is to anyone else but to the Hayes men. Must remember that.”
I swallow, trying to find the words I want to say. Even though I’ve been brewing on all my questions for months, now that I can ask my dad anything and he’ll probably tell me, I’m coming up dry.
“What does Hector think?” I whisper, glancing out the old wooden window that overlooks our yard.
“He thinks I’ve come back to send you away with someone.”
“Someone?” I ask, whipping my attention back to him. “To who? And why?”
“The Lost Boys, and to be lost.”
That brings my attention back into the circle. Into why I’m here. “Well, that’s not going to happen.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, looking at me sideways.
“Daemon is upstairs and has been here for a few nights now. And before you flip out—he’s not dangerous toward me, but I do have questions.”
Dad’s face falls. He pauses, and then he shoots off his chair like his ass just caught on fire. “What the fuck do you mean he’s here?” he roars, his hands flying out. The office door bursts open and Bishop strides in, checking me over quickly before giving my dad a death glare. “She knows he’s her brother, her twin,” Bishop starts.